Promises of Fire
by Delfae
Summary: Rhysa Tabris. Brash, rude, and deadly with anything sharp. The last thing she ever expected to be doing was saving the world, but with ulterior motives and a growing fondness for her companions, she becomes increasingly less averse to the idea. The basic premise and characters of DA:O but with some changes. And don't worry. There will be romance. I mean c'mon. It's fan fiction.


Promises of Fire: Origins [Prologue]

I would be lying if I said I had not seen that it would eventually come to this. The advantage to having a rather good idea of knowing what is to come, of course, is that you can plan for it. Thus, I'd have been a fool had I not planned for it, and despite the many things I may be, a fool is not among them.

"What are my charges?" I asked, smirking up at the knight commander in front of me.

The rather hulking man turned to me and sighed. "As if you don't already know?" The knight-commander's appearance did him no justice, and the ageing process appeared to have been sped up through the constant annoyances I imagine he faced. By annoyances, of course, I mean those such as myself.

"Yes, it does seem as though I'm a bit foggy. If you'd be so kind?"

"I don't exactly have the time, knife-ears-"

"I do believe it is within my rights to have my charges read to me," I cut him off, and he snarls. As the knight left the room to acquire the paperwork, I was left on my own.

The rope bonds tying my wrists to the chair burn into my skin as I attempted to remove them, so I decided to resort to less elegant methods of escape. Bending forward and standing up, I lifted the chair so as to be able to move, albeit being attached to a chair. I managed to make my way over to a wall of which the commander had adorned a rather beautiful array of swords.

Sawing one of the ropes off along a sword that had specifically caught my eye, I managed to free my right hand from the bonds. Quickly, I untied the ropes from my other hand, and I threw the chair to the ground. I grabbed the bottle of ink from the commander's desk, and stood beside the doorway.

Why the hell would someone take a criminal into a room filled with so many ways of escape?

Oh, but of course. Humans.

"Okay, so we have escaping the Alienage, petty theft, murder, more theft, more murder, blah blah- wait, where-" and as the commander walked through the door, I swung the bottle into the side of his head. The commander collapsed to the floor, a combination of blood and ink dripping down his face.

The two guards that had been outside of the door ran in as they heard the ruckus. Kicking my leg in a sideways arc, it connected with the first knight's face, which combined with the momentum of his running into the room, knocked him into a heap on the floor. The next guard actually managed a swing of his broadsword, but the combined weight of his armour and the sword itself caused the attack to be extremely slow and thus easily avoided. Ducking and maneuvering to behind the guard, I kicked out at the guard's back and he proceeded to trip on his fallen comrade.

I grabbed the previously utilised sword from the wall, kicking down the knight that still appeared to be conscious. I sprinted out of the room and down the hall. Right or left?

Left.

Slashing and kicking at any knight that posed any immediate threat, I eventually (and through sheer luck) managed to find my way to the main hall.

"You might want to consider stopping now," a booming voice said. Turning around, I found myself face to face with a presumably middle-aged man. With black hair tied back and a full beard, the man did not appear to have any intention of unsheathing his sword.

"You do realize that I'm currently escaping imprisonment and possible execution, yes? So I've got to run, if you don't mind," I smiled, turning to continue out of the hall. Suddenly, though, at least a dozen fully-armed knights had surrounded the man and I.

"What are your orders, Grey Warden?" One of the knights asked, a hand on his sword.

The Warden raised a hand, a smile stretching its way across his face. "Stand down," he said.

"Grey Warden, huh?" I asked, eyeing the surrounding knights. Them, I could definitely take. A Grey Warden, though? I'd yet to discover whether or not the legends preceded them.

"Duncan, Warden Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens," the man said, extending a hand. Instead of extending my own, though, I decided that this situation deserved a tad bit more of an explanation.

"What exactly is it that I have that you want?" I asked, tapping the stolen sword against my hand.

"And what makes you believe that I don't simply want to aid a young elvish girl out of the good of my heart?" He asked in reply, laughing heartily.

"Freeing me would not be doing this world a favour, my friend," I answered. "So, what's the plan?"

The Warden Commander raised an eyebrow. "The plan?"

"Are we just going to keep this up, making quips about my lack of morality, or are you ever going to explain what it is you're after?"

"Duncan, I realise you're status, but this elf has been condemned to be executed immediately," the knight commander said, rubbing his head where I had hit him with the ink bottle. Suddenly remembering that I was a criminal in the middle of an escape, I once again tried to make my way away from the Warden. Duncan grabbed my arm though, and the man's stature did not lie concerning his strength.

"I intend to invoke the Right of Conscription," Duncan said. The statement caused several knights to gasp like first timers to The Pearl, and the knight commander to become rather lost for words.

"Um, I'm sorry. I can't exactly speak almighty, human bullshit," I said.

"It means that you're going to be recruited into the Grey Wardens. And don't disrespect this man, knife-ears," the commander said, glaring.

Suddenly lost for words myself, the circle of knights slowly dissipated.

"Uh, no thank you. I'd much rather, well, deal with these idiots, than join the legendary Grey Wardens," I said, with my fingers in quotation marks to aid the 'legendary' part. Unsheathing my sword, I bent my knees in preparation for the seemingly inevitable fight.

Instead of unsheathing his own sword, though, the knight commander just laughed. "Oh you poor, stupid little elf. You don't have a choice."

Pointing the sword at the Warden Commander's throat, I furrowed my brows. "This true?" I asked.

"I'm afraid so. It would be best if we go as soon as-"

"No way. Nope. I just got out of the Alienage and Maker help me I am not going to throw away my newfound freedom to suddenly run off with some old man to join a clan of almighty warriors. Maybe next time though," I hissed, reeling back the sword.

"Freedom is a bit of a stretch, wouldn't you say?" One of the knights cackled. Spinning around to decipher which knight had spoken, I stood in front of my target with barely an inch between us.

"You don't know the meaning of the word freedom, human," I said, spitting on his armour. This caused quite the ruckus of course, as humans like their shiny things almost as much as the dwarves. Shoving ensued, and eventually the knight and I had to be split up by the Warden Commander.

"He is right, though. You either come with me and join the Grey Wardens, or you are executed on the spot," Duncan said, and I managed to make out a hint of pity in his eyes.

"I'd rather die than fight alongside human scum."

The Warden shoved the knight away and put a hand to his sword. "Well, I guess we'll have to do this the hard way," but before the hilt of his sword could strike the side of my head, I lifted my own sword to parry it.

Struggling beneath the Warden's sheer force of strength, he continued to push down until I was practically crouching. Suddenly swinging one leg up, I managed to hit him right in the centre of his legs. As he buckled over in pain, I rolled to the side and sprinted out of the hall and into the streets of Denerim.

I pushed past the crowds of people, hearing the shouts of men behind me as they follow me out of the Fort. Where could I run? The Pearl and the Alienage were too far, and there's no way I could take salvation anywhere else. Who would let a rather notorious elven outlaw inside their walls?

Then I heard it. A scream. No, less than a scream. It was only a whimper, but I'd be able to recognize that voice anywhere. I span around frantically, trying to find her. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse though, just a glimpse. I sprinted with all of the energy one could possibly muster towards that red cloak, but I was nowhere close to her before she's pushed into the caravan and driven away.

"Falathae!" I screamed out. Standing there, dumbstruck, I collapsed onto my knees. The knights surrounded me once again. They grabbed my arms forcefully, expecting further retaliation. I gave them none.

She's gone. My little sister was taken once more. And once more, I couldn't save her.

While being escorted back to Fort Drakon, none of my thoughts grasped themselves onto my impending execution. Instead, they all laced themselves cruelly around Falathae. All I'd done so I could bring her back, and then I failed her again. No.

This is not how it was going to end. I would save her. No matter what some stupid Grey Warden would put me through.


End file.
